Small mechanics and wind-up toys clutter the windowsills. The chairs are draped in covers I made years ago: mossy green with the seal of the Gonfalon city council cross-stitched along the edges. It’s the same seal I’ve included in all of our costumes: a parchment scroll with a stylized, golden G, the same kind I have drawn on my nails. The G signifies we all belong together, at least for a few more days.
It can’t last. I know that. I know that. It’s a miracle it lasted so long. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to give it up yet. This group of friends has taught me so much about myself, about who I am and where I fit in.
Dad would tell me attachment is a weakness, but they made me stronger.
And until I have to let go, we’re together, like we were when it started.
Finn leans his crutches against a chair. “Wow, Ever.”
“You like it?” Ever whispers.
I turn to them. “Yer a wizard, Ev.”
Finn nods in agreement, and I see the sparkle that used to always be in his stormy-blue eyes. His hesitant smile is bright enough to light up the room, even if the rest of him is still cautious and uncomfortable around me. I can’t help but feel a disconnect too. Before Maddy, Finn was my best friend, but I didn’t have access to the cabin yet. Seeing him here feels like two worlds colliding, and it leaves me unsettled.
Next to Finn, Ever’s trepidation makes them look small as they stare at me. “I hope you don’t mind my messing with the décor this much.”
“Of course not.” Even after three years of playing together, I don’t know how to make them feel more at ease about my family’s money. I know the differences between our situations are stark, but that’s hardly my fault. I share what I have whenever I can—isn’t that enough? A familiar sense of impatience gnaws at me. “I told you to make yourself at home here.”
My words have hit their mark, and Ever flinches at the frost in my tone. Then they square their shoulders and plaster on a smile. They know as well as I do that I can’t help that we live in different worlds. “Can you believe it’s been three years?”
“No.” Well… “Yes.”
We were young and naïve when we started playing together. I was nervous when I walked into the school theater on our first day, and I never had anything to be nervous about in school…except, perhaps, making the best decisions for my social status. Joining a role-playing group wasn’t necessarily one of those decisions, but there were reasons I did it.
The joy of playing.
The people. Family.
Finn. We were still close. When he extended the invite to me, how could I say no?
He looked so different then. All angles and anxiety. He was the quiet middle school kid who might be a math genius, might be a programming mogul one day. In the years since, he’s come into his own. All of us have.
Maybe that’s part of what makes it so hard to keep the group together; when we were just starting, the lines were easier. The conversations less uncomfortable.
Ever designed our Gonfalon adventures and pulled the group together. They created a world where they were powerful, while living in a town that would do everything to drain that power.
That day in the theater, they welcomed us with a story and a flourish. I was hooked from the moment they started describing Gonfalon. “It’s the biggest city on this side of the Scarlet Sea, where ships from all the seafaring nations dock, so merchants can sell their wares. Where education and medicine are respected and thrive. Where the council works hard every day to make the city safer, more prosperous, and able to withstand any disaster or war.
“They call it the city of mages, and many think there is magic itself in the air. It’s a safe haven for magic users who were shunned or turned away from their homes, which means Gonfalon is rich with cultures and stories from all across the continent. Still, the city is far from perfect. The crime rate is low, but not nonexistent. Powerful factions strive to gain influence, and the underbelly of Gonfalon is rife with corruption. The council does all it can to keep the peace, but despite their dedication, it’s proven impossible to keep the city safe entirely. And that’s where you come in. You’re the inquisitors of the council, sent out when there are crimes and mysteries to be solved.”
They leveled us all with a stare and a smile. “Your journey always starts with a murder.”
There were six of us, then. Carter, who got dragged into the game by Maddy, whose younger sister happened to be good friends with Ever’s sister. Something like that, anyway. I didn’t know Maddy yet, but I knew of Maddy. A bit different, and an athletic star on the rise. We became friends through the game, despite her being a freshman to my sophomore.
Me. Finn. Ever.
And Zac. Because Zac did everything I did, and I did everything Zac did. We should’ve been too young to be the “it” couple of Stardust High, but somehow we were. He was a rich kid, like me, with generations of oil money in his family, like the insurance money in mine. He wasn’t athletic enough to be a jock, but he more than made up for that with his parties. Pool parties. Dance parties. That time his family rented the whole Stardust Diner for his birthday and he invited our entire grade. He loved being the center of attention, and his generosity made up for most of his other flaws.
Everyone wanted him, and I had him, at least
